


i want you to know

by sarcoline_sails



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: !!!, Best Friends, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, but also lovers, or really just one, singular kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 18:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcoline_sails/pseuds/sarcoline_sails
Summary: Aziraphale needs to get something off his chest.-:)





	i want you to know

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since bingeing the show a few weeks ago I fell in love with the its intriguing plot and endearing cast. And, of course, everyone’s favourite Ineffable Idiots. Enjoy (or try to)!

“Crowley?”

The demon in question grunts and tips his head a bit in Aziraphale’s direction, prompting the other to continue with his query. A silence settles upon them, soft and comfortable, and when it begins to carry on, Crowley turns to fully face the angel beside him.

“Hm, what’s up?”

Aziraphale stays quiet for another eternal moment. “Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” He starts, Crowley raising a sharp eyebrow. “Yellow sun, blue sky, white clouds, green grass—perfect.”

Crowley laughs, though it would be better described as a sharp exhale accompanied by a jerk of his shoulders than anything else. “Yeah, s’pose it is.”

They listen to the sound of the park—cheery laughter of children, hushed talk from adults, beautiful birdsong in the trees—until Aziraphale speaks again.

“I love it here.”

“Mm, yeah, I _know_ you do. You only mention it, what, every three minutes?”

He receives a pointed glare for his efforts, which only makes him smile.

“It’s just...it’s so... _vibrant_. So full of life down here, never a dull moment, really.”

He doesn’t respond, only turns back to appraise his surroundings, everybody going about their business, oblivious to the supernatural stirrings in their obscure world.

“And I’ve come to realise,” Aziraphale begins again, once more becoming the object of Crowley’s attention (as he so often seems to be), “that the reason I love it so much is because-”

He cuts himself off suddenly, tensing up and fiddling with his fingers. Crowley purses his lips.

“Is it the crepes?”

He gets a confused glance.

“What?”

“The reason you love it so much here is the crepes.”

Aziraphale laughs. “Well, they are quite delectable things, aren’t they? But, ah, no, that’s- they’re not the reason, no.”

“Huh.” He shrugs. “What is the reason, then?”

“I-” The angel begins to play with the hems of his sleeves, the bright azure of the sky reflecting off his eyes and making them that much more vivid. “I believe it’s _you_ , Crowley.”

He feels his eyebrows scrunch together. “Me?”

“ _Yes_ , you,” Aziraphale says, exasperated, biting his lip in hesitation. “I’m just...well, I suppose I’m rather grateful it was _you_ I got to spend all of this time with, and-” he takes a shaky breath, “-and I’m... I _appreciate_ you, more than you could ever understand.”

An warm, unexplainable feeling consumes him, and _oh_ , he thinks, _this is nice_.

“You know, Aziraphale,” he drawls, shifting into a proper sitting position (for what was probably the first time in his lengthy existence) as he removes his sunglasses and stuffs them into his coat pocket. He gazes at his angel, bare and honest. “I care about you more than _anything_ in this universe. And I _really_ mean that.”

For a while Aziraphale remains still, staring back at Crowley in a way that makes the demon’s false insides turn nervously until a look of delighted surprise overtakes his angelic features, the sweet grin on his face driving Crowley’s insides to flip for an entirely different reason.

“Oh, _Crowley_ , I…” A soft, disbelieving laugh falls from his lips and he looks away for a moment to smile bashfully down at the dewy grass. The demon smiles at the endearing sight, watching as Aziraphale raises his head and catches his eye.

“Even the car?”

Crowley snorts at this, delaying his response in favour of hooking a finger underneath his angel’s chin to press a chaste kiss to his upturned lips. A kiss between friends, a kiss between lovers, a kiss between two natural-born enemies that had found something better than a lifetime of antagonism. It’s all the same to them. A kiss to somehow depict the indescribable love they held for one another.

He leans back, savouring the dazed look on Aziraphale’s face: the sparkle in his crystal eyes, the sugary blush on his cheeks, and the irrepressible, ear-to-ear beam that’s threatening to burst into a trillion smiley angel bits. Crowley grins back, so wide his cheeks hurt.

“ _Even the car._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> (666 words HAAA)


End file.
